Love Psalms: Part One
by Maria Magdalene Mesmer
Summary: As far as the eyes could see, they knew they were meant to be. Never mind if they don't understand.
1. Verse One

***

Verse One

***

"I'm so sorry" Kahoko turned on her heel and made a mad dash away from him.

As her feet carried her through the halls of Seiso Gakuen, thoughts of him and his harmony were still plaguing her head relentlessly. There were simply no words to describe how pleasing it was no matter how heartbreaking the piece was. His melody was certainly different from all her musically gifted friends. Not to mention that it came from him, he was the type of person whom she least expected to be playing within the vicinities of the school. Her accidental discovery was truly startling, but the thing that astonished her most was the unlikely company of his eyes.

Earlier that afternoon, the realization that it was the last day of second term which also marks the final day of classes within that year dawned on her. Kahoko had just finished with her violin practice when there was a knock on the door. Len entered the room both bag and violin case in hand. She gave a weak smile to acknowledge his presence. Ever since his unforeseen confession a few days ago, she cannot help and feel slightly awkward around him.

Len held an exceptional position for Kahoko but the specifications of his importance are still under extreme scrutiny, which had her all worked up these past evenings.

"Shall we go?" he asked, casually running his free hand through his bangs.

Before pouring out his emotions for her, he made the effort of walking her home in a daily basis. She thought that those particular routines were only meant to ensure her safety, like before, as the evenings came earlier during the winter seasons. But after his untimely declaration of ardent attachment to her, Kahoko's perspective changed.

"Sorry," she started, zipping close her violin case, "I want to go home alone today."

He said nothing but had stared at her with a raised brow. The silent tension was unmistakably high between them but she persevered and excused herself nonetheless. She could feel the guilt slowly weighing her down as she came near the door. But it had to be stalled by the grip she felt on her wrist.

"Are you avoiding me?" he said without any hesitation.

The question was too direct it made her feel more culpable.

"No," she answered not moving a muscle.

"Then why?"

Kahoko knew she needed a good outlet and quickly as to not make him suspicious. Thereupon, at her very feet was the answer and her artifice was formed. Half the sun was still up and its golden rays scattered through the hallways of the school. She immediately tugged her arm free from his grip with enough strength. But she heard Len's footsteps, indicating that he had backed away from her just a bit which added guilt to sink at the pit of her stomach.

"There's still light," she said, turning her head partially to her right, "If I go now, I think I'll be home just as the sun is about to hide away completely"

"I see," he sighed, "If that's really what you want."

"Hai," she gulped, placing a foot forward, "Well, I better get—"

"Will you be there tomorrow?" Len suddenly asked, staring at her profile in a hopeful manner.

"I will," Kahoko nodded and left.

She found that walking simply won't do and had settled into running instead. Ashamed was she for lying, she was also relieved that he bought her excuse. But her conscience got her thinking twice. Kahoko stopped at the foot of the stairs to catch her breath and contemplate on how she had handled the whole situation.

"Too harsh," she mumbled, clamping her hands on her mouth and taking a seat on the steps, "I should have not brushed him off just like that."

The attitude she showed him must have puzzled him exceedingly the minute she left him. It was not in her nature to be dismissive in such an unfriendly way. She was thankful that the school was almost rid of students as a frustrated groan escaped her lips. Kahoko finally decided to return to where the unwanted confrontation took place, hoping in every bit that he was still there.

She picked her way back but her direction diverted when she heard a violin playing somewhere from the same floor. The piece made her fear for the worse and her heart wrenched in grief. Kahoko speculated that Len took his leave from the room but found a different seclusion to put out his diminished desire, of taking her home, and convey his wounded pride through music.

Following the melody, she was stunned to find that it led her to the opposite side of the floor. The hallways appeared older for some of the walls seemed to have weathered on with time. The notes soared higher causing her to frantically search for the epicentre of such a tragic piece. And there at the end of the hallway, as if calling out to her, was a partially opened door with the streak of sunlight seeping through the gap.

She marched and stopped in front of the door to push it fully open. But it went too quickly and way too strong that it slammed loudly against the adjacent wall. The playing of the violin ceased. The afternoon light blinded her momentarily and the wind from the recent action of the wood had caused particles of dust to flutter around. She coughed and heard someone coughed in return.

Kahoko peered through the cloud of dusts and saw the outline of a person standing in the middle of what looked like an abandoned homeroom for a whole class under the music department. The chairs were piled on the corners of the room in a messy state. The chalkboard was half broken and some of the windows were shattered.

"Tsukimori-kun?" she called out.

The particles gave way and she was able to make out who stood before her. Their startled eyes met and both were unable to speak from her sudden arrival. But Kahoko stumbled upon something that made her wished she should have not seen.

His tailored black suit was thinly covered with the tiny particles of dirt. The glow of the sun made his face glistened from the traces of tears present on his face. The bow clung to his thumb as he concealed his eyes with his palm.

"Kira-riji?" Kahoko said slowly.

It was rare indeed for someone like him, the usually staid director of the school, to be playing and shedding tears in such an untidy room. He could have used his handsomely furnished office instead. Why there? Kahoko's gaze left his face and turned towards the violin he was holding. She was absolutely sure she had seen it before. He must have sensed the way she was staring at his instrument for he had broken the long wordless pause with a question.

"Why," he started, struggling with his words and current disposition, "Why are you here?"

Akihiko turned a fraction of a quarter to hide the evidence of his weakness. She took his gesture as a sign that she had to leave him no matter what. So, with a short uttered apology, she sprinted away from him.

***


	2. Verse Two

***

Verse Two

***

"Was it really him?" Kahoko asked herself for what seemed like the millionth time.

She hugged her knees closer and sank further on the tub stopping only to make sure her nose is above the water line. When the bubbles she blew underneath were of no help, she straightened up and leaned the back of her neck against the rim of the porcelain. Her eyes stared at the ceiling as the recollection of yesterday's trespassing flooded her mind.

For the first time, and perhaps the last, she was able to see his striking crimson eyes, which usually gave off a commanding stare, produce tears. She titled her head a little to the left. The sound of his music resurfaced and she can do nothing but to frown from it. For minutes she can't even tell how long, she wondered how something so magnificent to the ears can cause as much pain to the heart.

"Kaho?" her sister's voice echoed behind the bathroom door, "Are you done?"

"Almost," she answered, pulling the drain stopper.

"Hurry up if you don't want to be late."

"But it's just a concert," Kahoko said, grabbing the towel nearby.

"Just hurry up," she said, leaving audible footsteps, "You're not the only person in this house who needs to use the bathroom."

She sighed and left to get dressed. The truth was she doesn't want to go that night. Although the concert was held for a good cause and perhaps to welcome the nearing Christmas holiday, her spirits were not so pleased with the gathering. Due to the incidents she faced yesterday, she felt uneasy with the thought of seeing both men. But it was way too late for any kind of escape now. The taxi had just rounded the corner and in came the view of Seiso Gakuen.

Kahoko handed the cabbie a crisp thousand bill before hopping off the vehicle. She pulled her coat tighter around her quivering body and walked the length from the gate to the multi-purpose hall. The building buzzed even before the doors were opened for her. The hall was brightly lit and charming music filled the air as the guests twirled in dancing motions on the marble flooring of the room. She eyed the crowd nervously for a familiar face to be with till the end of the night. And soon, she found one approaching her from the opposite end.

"Hino-san," Aoi greeted, giving her a polite bow, "You look great."

"Thanks," she smiled, "So do you."

The blond looked over his shoulder towards the waltzing crowd and offered his hand to Kahoko, which she gladly took. Anything to limit her chance of interaction with the violin prodigy or the school director was good enough for her.

This time around, she managed not step on any of his feet and even executed a swift turn with Aoi's exemplary moves. As the night progressed, she had danced with almost all her close male friends with the same gracefulness she had carried out with Aoi even if there was a tad bit difficulty dancing with Kazuki. He had a hard time focusing on her face and would glance every now and then on his feet, making sure that he won't step on her, or she on him.

Just as the music was about to end and the event about to finish, Kahoko heard a feeble cough next to her. She followed the source of the interruption and saw Len. With his usual civility, he had asked Kazuki if he could steal her for a few minutes. The trumpeter nodded, thanked Kahoko for the dance and smiled to them both before leaving.

"Do you mind stepping outside?" Len asked.

"Not at all," she answered.

He presented his arm for her to take which she did. Len took their coats and led her out the door and in the direction of the school garden. There stood a huge Christmas tree with carefully placed decorations and glimmering lights. Both stopped and stared to admire the arrangement made on the tree as snow lazily fell from the sky.

"Kahoko," he called, not shifting his eyes from the tree, "Have you thought about it?"

"About?"

"What I've told you before," Len said sternly.

"Before?" she said, trying her best to not start on the subject she feared the most.

She heard him sigh which made her turn to look at him. He stood only a foot away from her. His eyes shook but his expression bore determination.

"Do I have to say it again just for you to remember?" he asked.

"Well, I don't think that's neces—"

"I love you," he said.

Her cheeks felt instantly warm against the cold weather and her heart made the same pause it did a few days prior. The words felt extremely good and she can feel the fluttering sensation inside her stomach but something else occurred to her under a lengthy reflection of the past situation. She stepped back and lowered her head.

"I know," she stared, placing her fist against her chest, "And thank you."

"That's it?" he was dumbfounded.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Don't you feel the same way?" Len asked, grabbing her shoulders firmly, "Surely you must"

"I have," Kahoko titled her head to meet his eyes, "It's you who don't understand the gravity of your own words"

"What?"

"How can you say that you love me?" she said, fighting the urge to hit him, "When you're about to leave in a few days"

"But you know how important music is to me," he protested, shaking her a bit.

"I know," Kahoko shot back, "That's why I put on a brave face, a fake one to show how happy I am for you. But not once have you considered my emotions. Not once have you made an effort"

"What about the walks and the concerts?"

"That's it?" she snarled.

Len froze as his hands loosened their hold on her. He found no good answer to her question and had hung his head in defeat.

"I have to go," Kahoko suddenly uttered.

His head snapped back to look at her but she had already turned around and was starting to take her leave. Len seized her hand involuntarily to stop her. And like before, she tugged it away from him with added force.

"At least let me—"

"No!" she barked and she was gone.

Kahoko tried pulling it together but letting go is her best choice at the moment. Not wanting to grab foreign attention on the street to herself, she hastily went inside the campus even though the hallways were dark and empty. She leaned on the wall and found herself curling up on the floor as tears rolled down from her eyes. No one was there to hear her so she cried to her heart's content till she heard footsteps.

"Who's there?" Kahoko cried, drawing her coat close.

From the corner of the hallway, a lean figure emerged and made its way to where she was sitting. His face was strategically hidden by the shadows of the corridor. Every time he passes a window, she could see parts of him that may help her identify whom he was. Upon stopping in front of her, Kahoko gazed up and from his upturned lips; she was able to finally distinguish who he was.

"Why didn't you answer me yesterday?" he said.

"I'm sorry," she stood, smoothing her skirt from the rumpled mess it once had been. She wasn't hoping for another conflict so she continued, "I didn't mean to disturb you. I thought you were someone else"

Unaware of the tears still falling from her tawny eyes, she stared at him. Gone were the vulnerable pair of rubies she saw and were now back to the stoic but sharp eyes he normally wore. She then felt something warm against her face and noticed that he had graced her cheek with the back of his hand. He withdrew and held his hand in between them. Kahoko wasn't sure what to do when she saw a teardrop sitting on his index finger.

"This makes us even," Akihiko said, digging inside his pocket to hand her his handkerchief.

Without another word or a glance back at her, he left.

***


	3. Verse Three

***

Verse Three

***

In just a few minutes, Kahoko will be celebrating New Year with her family. It was not fair that only her mother and sister were busy preparing their meals for the transition of the year, but she did have a good excuse to not help out.

She had a minor fever that morning and her mother, like most caring parent, ordered her to take it easy. Even though her sister thought it was unjust of Kahoko to be bed ridden so early in the morning, she complied with her mother's wishes and kept a close watch on her younger sister.

"Don't stay out there for too long, Kaho," her sister reminded her, "You have not fully recovered yet."

"Okay," she answered.

Kahoko was out on her balcony, staring at the city lights and a few fireworks from beyond. The coldness of the climate was to blame for her brief illness. She spun around to follow her sister's order but had jumped back in shock to find her standing on the balcony door with arms crossed.

"What?"

"You snuck out a few days ago," she mused, smirking at her little sister, "Didn't you?"

"How did you—"

"Oh c'mon," she exasperated, leaving her spot and leaning on the railings of the balcony, "All these years, do you not expect me to be so familiar with the creak that loose board under your doormat makes?"

"Well, if you must know," Kahoko started, shuffling her feet, "I made peace."

"Peace?" her sister repeated, "Are you some kind of secret diplomat?"

"No, silly" she laughed, "It's complicated."

"Ehh?"

"What now?" frowning at how interested her sister had become.

"My own little sister," reaching out to pinch Kahoko's cheeks, "Is now using the infamous 'it's complicated' phrase to describe her troubled love life. When did this happen?"

"Not that long," Kahoko said, removing her sister's hands on her face and rubbing the part where she held her flesh in a teasing manner, "And I don't have a love life."

"If you say so," she mocked then pulled away from the railings and made her way out the room, "Better get changed. You know how mum wants us to look our best during New Year's Eve."

She merely nodded and left the balcony. Sitting in front of her vanity table, her eyes unintentionally wandered over to the pink phone perched next to the tissue box. Her eyes softened as the memory of her sneaking out paid her a visit.

The call took place almost around midnight and she quickly answered to her caller. It was Len and he sounded like he was in a hurry. He wanted to meet with her, the very night before his departure. So, she agreed and snuck out like her sister had heard. They met at the park where he once told her about his fatal encounter with a fellow violin student a few years ago when he was but ten years old and where he played music for her with the help of a leaf.

Upon arriving, she saw him sitting on one of the swings. His eyes looked restless but he managed to stagger forward and give her one of his rare smiles. As he held her hands, she saw that he was trembling and so with his words. He apologized for his rudeness at the concert and had begged to be forgiven. Kahoko immediately forgave him and asked to be forgiven in return for being impolite herself. Len casually shook his head and said to forget about it.

For a few minutes they stood holding hands and gazing at each other. It was comforting to both that they were able to fix things without escalating into another miscommunication.

Len then admitted that she was absolutely right about him and his devotion to music but wanted to clarify that he was very much in love with her. If it wasn't for her, he would not have learned how to open his heart to people. She smiled at how much he had changed.

If he had just enough guts back then, he could have chosen to cancel his transfer and continue with Seiso. He would resume teaching her and graduate alongside her and more importantly formally court her putting an end to all her other admirers. Regret filled his eyes and his quivering worsened.

Kahoko wasn't going to let him blame himself for everything. She took part in this for being too transparent and too careless with her actions. To steady him by, she gave his hands a reassuring squeeze which, thankfully, had brought him back to his composed self.

He wanted her to at least wait for his return and then perhaps they could rekindle everything from there. But she argued and suggested that they should leave it all to the all-knowing unprecedented force. If they were really meant to be then both their waiting would pay off and everything that has hindered them in the past would be disregarded entirely. After careful consideration, he agreed.

And so, before they parted, Len held her in his arms as tight as he could. Time felt meaningless and reality was but a distant memory. How he wished for the heavens to make time stop for them, but that would be too much.

"Tsukimori-kun," Kahoko whispered, getting up and walking over to her drawer.

She opened and saw the white handkerchief neatly folded on top of her clothes. Of all people who would hear and see her cry, why does it have to be Akihiko? But his parting words did made sense.

Yes, they were perfectly even.

Kahoko wanted to cast away those unfortunate encounters. Wish granted, the knock on the door brought her back to her senses. She has no clear picture of how the coming year would treat her but she hoped that everything would be better. More laughter and less tears, she added. It was simple, she knew, but those were her only wishes. She clicked off her desk lamp and had proceeded to join her sister and mother for the long awaited countdown to start.

***


	4. Verse Four

***

Verse Four

***

On the morning of the New Year, Kahoko received a phone call from Len across the country. There was no better surprise than to hear his voice but there were more to come. The New Year's cards came and she was happy to receive a lot from her friends, even outnumbering that of her sister's.

New Year was always a busy day for her family. Their home undergoes the biggest annual cleaning of the year. Kahoko was glad that she was well enough to finally help around the house and that includes the preparation for the traditional three-day feast.

The first day, New Year, was the best day for the feast to be devoured. The following day was fairly good while the last day not so. Most households on the third day have grown tired of the _osechi_ and chose to resume on their normal day to day food. But that was not the case for Kahoko's sister. She insisted that just as the year started off with a bountiful banquet, it must end the same way.

"We've ran out of daikon?" her sister mused, looking disapprovingly at the contents of the refrigerator.

"So it seems," Kahoko said, taking a look at the cold container herself.

"But I need those!" she exclaimed.

"Then go get them," the violinist suggested, skipping away from her sister.

"Or maybe," her frown turned into a broad smile, "You could get them for me."

"Me?"

Her sister placed both hands on her waist. "Yeah, you're well enough."

"But I'm not the one who needs it,"

"So you won't get it?"

"Obviously!" Kahoko shot back, copying her moves.

"Okay, suit yourself," her sister left and went to the living room to where their mother was. Kahoko heard her speak in an unusual loud voice, "Hey mum, did you know I learned something from Kahoko a few days ago."

Through gritted teeth, she granted her sister's favour and stomped away to get it over with but it only got worse. Most of the convenient stores around her block were closed. She ended up trudging her feet three blocks away from home. Kahoko glared at the daikon, even cursing the innocent vegetable, before grabbing a few and stuffing some on her basket to be purchased.

Once outside, she sighed in relief and marched to the nearest bus stop. There was absolutely no way she was going to drag her sorry butt all the way back on foot. But no sooner had she left the store, she saw the familiar features of a man sitting on the bench of the waiting shed.

"Not again," she mumbled, slowly leaving the spot and heading for the other bus stop at the opposite corner.

But her eyes remained on him as she took notice of how different the school director was behaving. For someone so listed, he was slouching on his seat and was wobbling from left to right in small measurements. Kahoko's supposition was placed under question and there was only one way to prove that she was not imagining stuffs. She gradually made her way around him.

"Kira-riji," she said, meeting his eyes warily, "Are you okay?"

Akihiko stared back at her with a dazed expression. He kept his eyes on her face for quite some time it made her feel partially uncomfortable. She then thought that he probably had not heard her inquiry clearly. Kahoko repeated and he responded in action.

He smiled.

It left her mouth part in awe. From the deadpan look to the crying performer back to the poker-faced director and now he was smiling. His amusing oddities seem to grow every time they meet. She leaned forward just a bit to inspect his face better when the culprit for his conducts emerged.

She caught a whiff of what smelled like a mixture of alcohol and perfume with subtle hints of tobacco. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern and she reached out to tap his shoulder but impressively, even under his unstable condition, he managed to grab her hand in midair. Akihiko studied her palm before pressing it next to his cheek while sporting a wider smile.

"Oi!" someone shouted from a distant, "Is he bothering you?"

She turned around to see Hiroto running her direction with such an anxious face.

"Hino?"

"Kanazawa-sensei," she said, yanking her hand away from Akihiko.

"What are you doing here?"

"Grocery shopping," Kahoko lifted the plastic bag then gave the director a glance, "I don't think he's feeling well."

"I came too late," he sighed, "Or he drank way too early."

"Oh."

"Hino, are you in a hurry?" Kanazawa asked, putting Akihiko's arm around his neck and helping him on his feet. He then looked at the brief case, "I kinda need a hand right now."

She smiled as his request for help reeked of revenge for her sister.

"I'd be glad to," she said, already grabbing the director's brief case and hugging it against her.

Hiroto dragged Akihiko to the nearest coffee shop whereas Kahoko obediently tailed after the two men. They took the table with couches for comfort. She sat next to the inebriated director who slumped forward on the table, muttering meaningless words under his breath.

Their orders came shortly and immediately Hiroto pushed the black coffee for the intoxicated Akihiko to drink. A few sips made wonders for the director. He gradually became aware that he was in the presence of a student and was in a public place. Though still recuperating from his drunken status, he stood and excused himself before heading to the bathroom.

"Be careful in there," Hiroto said, smiling at his back, "And Kira, Happy Birthday."

"Ah," he managed to utter.

"Today is the director's birthday?" Kahoko asked.

"Yeah, he's getting old," Hiroto commented, crushing his cigarette on the ashtray, "And I'm getting older."

Kahoko chuckled at his notion but it made her wonder how old exactly was the director. Knowing that Akihiko was the youngest school director in the history of the school, he may not be that old at all, and so was Hiroto. But she didn't inquire any further about their ages instead her curiosity about how atypical it was for the director to be unguarded especially on his birthday consumed her.

"How did you know he was going to drink today?" she then started, leaning on the table.

"Well, he's always been like that," he answered, taking out his box of cigarettes, "Every year."

"Every year," Kahoko repeated.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Just to get rid of those memories."

"Alone?" she added.

"I use to make it to him before he takes that first swig but lately, he prefers to drink alone."

"It must have been one tough memory."

"It was and still is," Hiroto took a long drag. He disposed the remnants of the cigar and pulled his wallet out. "Here, just don't tell Kira I showed you this."

The brown leather wallet plopped on the table where it flipped open in its own. Kahoko titled her head and gazed at the picture within. A portrait of a beautiful girl greeted her. She had long midnight blue hair and a look on her eyes that translated serenity. Her smile was minimal yet captivating. The background looked familiar and that was when Kahoko realized the girl on the picture was actually wearing Seiso Gakuen's music department uniform.

"I had a huge crush on her," the teacher cut in, edging on his sit and looking over Kahoko's shoulder, "Till she left us"

"You had a crush on student?" Kahoko was scandalized.

"No, that was taken years ago," he added, dismissing the alarm on her face, "We were in the same class."

"Oh, sorry," embarrassed, she averted her eyes and stared back at the picture, holding it up, "Where'd she go?"

"Gone," Hiroto said, "Physically gone."

"I'm so sorry," she muttered, "You said 'us', you mean Kira-riji?"

"Right," he nodded slowly, "Her name is Kira Miya."

"Kira?" she gasped. Kahoko never thought that the director had a special lady in his life. Perhaps her passing was the very reason he was impassive all the time, "She must have been one lovely wife for him to miss her so dearly."

"Wife?" Hiroto shook his head, "Miya was his sister."

"What are you looking at?" Akihiko's cold voice poured over their shoulders.

Kahoko snapped her eyes away from the wallet, tossing it quickly over to Hiroto who failed to catch it. Drunk or not, the director's hand swiftly blocked the leather piece from making it towards the teacher. He unfolded it and upon looking at it, he gave Hiroto a glare.

***

AN: I want to thank Kure and Koei for volume 14 of La Corda D'oro (pages 169 and 174) for this tad bit of information, especially Hiroto himself for mentioning Kira's older sister's name. Thank you sensei!


End file.
